The trailing edge of shadows fetter
on plain hills;
The fields and moods robed
afresh;
We were made for latitudes
Here to watch the green mountains
break new turf
The souls of our niches
pant for breaths
Enchanted melted blades
still blazing
Who feed the ravaged
with wild eggs
and dumb songs
Who banished the bossoms
from care and ruth
Tan our eyes
They’re blind to tender things
Spare our ears
They are deaf
only to reason
Save some buttercups
for butterflies
And some innocence
for the youth.
a k o s i l e 
Beautiful, Gbolabo! ❤
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Lovely poem! I always enjoy your work and was happy to see this come up in the Reader. And yes, we must save some innocence for the youth.
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Wonderful. As always, so much packaged in a small box it explodes when opened.
L-RD Bless, Keep, Shine. . .
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Always a pleasure to see your work in the Reader! This one was exceptionally written.
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Thankfully the young keep bringing innocence with them when they enter our world.
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Nice.. Splendid
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Love is stronger than hate. May God keep you safe in these difficult times, Gbolabo. ❤
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Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
WONDERFUL!!!!!!!! 😀
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Nice blog x
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good one
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Gbolabo, I love your author’s note and the image of basketry. My grandmother used to make baskets in the “old country”. So they remind me of her. But for me they, also, symbolize connection — the many things that unite us, and the way our lives are intertwined. Love and blessings, A. ❤
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Thank you very much for your like on one of our blogs. We appreciate it. I tried to like one of your poems, but couldn’t manage it. Don’t know why. Blessings! Alida
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Nice one
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